by Nora Phoenix
Blake had no trouble filling in the rest. He’d gotten distracted by ogling men, no doubt. Not something he would tease Aaron about. He’d been through that phase himself, short-lived as it had been. “Okay, that means we’re starting from scratch. I’ll put you on a couch to 5k program that will help you build up your endurance in running, and we’ll work on core and strength training as well.”
“Why?”
Five minutes in and he already wanted to smack him. This was not gonna end well. “Are you gonna question everything I say?”
“No. Sorry. Didn’t mean to imply you don’t know what you’re doing. I was surprised because I thought you would teach me jiujitsu, not make me do all kinds of other stuff as well.”
Blake sighed. “Three things. First of all, jiujitsu is a full-body sport. You won’t get far if you only work on your moves. You need to get yourself in solid shape. Second, your life is in shambles, and you’ve lost a sense of who you are. It’s wise to start with rebuilding your body, then the mind will follow. A strong mind in a strong body, that’s kind of our mantra here. And last, you really don’t have anything else to do, so what the fuck are you whining about?”
Aaron shuffled his bare feet, his ears turning red. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You know what, let’s make a deal. If you do exactly what I tell you for the next hour without asking any more questions, you’ll get a reward. How’s that?”
Aaron’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across his face. He looked like an eager puppy who was promised a dog treat if he plopped his little butt down. “What kind of reward?”
“I’ll think of something. Do we have a deal?”
Aaron nodded enthusiastically. “You’re on.”
He stepped onto the mat but Blake pulled him off. “First, let’s teach you the proper etiquette. As I said, this room is not to be stepped in with anything else but bare feet. Before stepping onto the mat, you bow toward the wall.” He demonstrated a bow. “Since we are starting together, you wait for me to step on the mat first, since I’m your professor.”
Aaron gave a clumsy bow, but he wasn’t making fun of it. If he had, Blake would have gotten on his case. He demanded respect for this sport. He stepped on the mat and Aaron waited a second or two before following him. Good.
“Start with jogging around the mat for a few minutes. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Aaron took off too fast and promptly ran out of breath after a minute, then settled on a much slower tempo. His reaction to Blake’s spontaneous reward idea was interesting. It meant he had the instinct to please, wanted Blake to like him. The truth was that Blake did like him, though fuck knew why. The kid had an uncanny ability to push buttons Blake would rather not see pushed, but something about him tickled Blake’s attention.
Aaron had begun to pant, and he subtly held his right side. “Walk two laps,” Blake called out. Aaron immediately slowed down, a look of gratitude on his face. After that, Blake took him through some more warm-up exercises. “Let’s do some push-ups,” he said.
Aaron bit his lip. “I suck at those,” he admitted.
“All the more reason to start training them. Show me one.”
He did about the sloppiest excuse for a push-up Blake had ever seen. He lowered himself on the mat next to Aaron. “Your form and posture is all wrong. Watch me do one. I’ll do it slowly.” He lowered himself on his arms, keeping his body perfectly straight, then pushed up again.
“If I do it like that, I can only do one,” Aaron admitted.
Blake smiled. “Not much use in doing them wrong so you can do more. It’s cheating. We’ll keep at it until you can do one hundred.”
Aaron’s eyes grew big. “A hundred? Are you serious? That would take like a year or so.”
“You’d be surprised at how much you can achieve when you set your mind to it. Now, stop talking and show me a good push-up.”
Aaron’s position improved slightly, but he still arched his back, and his hands were too far forward. Blake put a hand on Aaron’s lower back. “Pull your stomach in, tighten your abdominal core. Yeah, like that. Now, bring your arms farther back. They should be in line with your shoulders. A little wider. Yes, perfect. Now lower yourself and push back up.”
Aaron’s muscles strained as he did one push-up. A small tremor indicated his muscles were getting tired. “One more,” Blake told him. He almost held his breath, waiting for Aaron to protest. He didn’t. Instead, he closed his eyes tight, lowered himself again and pushed back up, his whole body rippling with the effort.
“Good job. Stand back up.” Aaron climbed to his feet, beaming with pride. “When you’re up to ten push-ups, we’re gonna start doing burpees.”
“What are those?” Aaron didn’t sound too enthusiastic, but Blake didn’t blame him. The guy was truly out of shape, so this had to be pretty intimidating.
“They’re a combination of sort-of squat, then a push-up and a jump. Watch,” he simply said and executed two perfect burpees.
“Those look like torture,” Aaron said.
“We’ll get you there, I promise. Now, let’s start with the most important jiujitsu move of all: the break fall. Stand and let yourself fall backward on the mat. As you fall you slap both your hands and forearms on the mat to break your fall and tighten your core to the max to avoid hitting your head. Your head should stay off the mat, letting the rest of your body take the impact.”
He showed the move a few times, Aaron studying him with concentration. Then he gestured for Aaron to try it. It took him about twenty turns until he had the hang of it.
“Okay, good. We’ll start with practicing from wrist grips.” He suddenly grabbed Aaron by his right wrist and held it tightly. “If someone were to grab you like this, how would you get out?”
Aaron tried, Blake had to grant him that. For almost a minute, he tried different pulls and pushes, the only result being that his wrist got warm and red. He even tried to kick Blake, but the move was so predictable Blake simply stepped out of reach, while still holding on to the wrist. “Okay, I give up,” Aaron finally said.
“Let’s use your other wrist, because this one is getting angry with me,” Blake said, releasing Aaron’s right wrist and latching onto the left one. “Look at how I’m holding you. Where would my weakest point be?”
Aaron shrugged. “No idea.”
“Use your brain. What’s the weakest point in a connection? Which muscles that I’m using have the most strength and which are the weakest in comparison?”
“I didn’t think you had weak muscles,” Aaron mumbled. The statement was factual, but the undertone of admiration was clear.
“Relatively, remember?” Blake made light of it. He had no idea what Aaron meant exactly with that statement, but it did strange things to his body. He pushed it down. “Grab your left hand with your right hand. Now quickly move both your hands upward. I’ll have no choice but to let you go.”
They practiced the move twenty times, until Aaron could do it automatically. It would take a lot more repetitions before it was completely ingrained, but it was a start.
“Here’s another technique,” Blake said. He grabbed Aaron’s wrist again, which was warm under his touch. “When someone is holding you, the weakest point is always where the thumb and fingers meet. If you move your arm in that direction, fast, you’re often able to break free. It doesn’t work as well when someone’s hand is bigger than your wrist, because if they can completely span it, the weakest point is not as weak. Try it.”
Aaron tried it, with Blake correcting the move of his hand until he got it right. The first few times he let his grip go easily, but after that he made Aaron work for it. By the time he’d escaped about twenty times, both his wrists were red from irritation.
“Okay, we’ll practice one more thing. What would you do if someone came at you like this?” He reached out and went for Aaron’s throat with both hands. As expected, Aaron reacted too slowly. He gave a half-assed slap against Blake’s arm that did
nothing to deter him.
His strong fingers circled Aaron’s neck. His skin was ridiculously soft for a man. The kid barely had any beard growth, either. Blake was pretty sure that he hadn’t shaved this morning, considering how early he’d had to be at the studio, but there was not a trace of stubble on his chin.
He cleared his throat. Right. “The best thing is to try and prevent someone from being able to choke you. Let me show you. Try and choke me.”
He let go of Aaron’s neck, stepped back a little. Aaron came at him hesitantly.
“Do it like you mean it,” he snapped.
Aaron tried again with more determination. Blake brought his arms up lightning fast and did a move as if he were swimming. “Did you see what I did?” He repeated the move, slowly this time. “When I teach kids this move, I call it the Dory move. Just keep swimming. If you keep doing this, you’ll break off the hold before someone’s hands can ever reach your neck completely. Do it to me a few more times.”
Aaron came at him again, and Blake showed his move, repeating it three more times to make sure Aaron had gotten it.
“Now you.”
He didn’t wait but came at Aaron immediately, and he reacted too slowly. Blake’s hands were on his neck before he’d brought his arms up. “Faster. Do it like you mean it.”
He attacked him again. This time Aaron’s hands came up, but he didn’t put enough strength behind it. His arms were loose, not tightened enough to push Blake’s arms away.
“Again. Put some force behind it. You won’t hurt me, you know.”
After that, Aaron got into it. After practicing it a time or ten, Blake was happy he knew the basics of that move.
“Time for the cooling down. Let’s do some stretches. Follow my example.” He showed him a simple arm stretch. “Do you see why working on your overall strength could really help you?”
Aaron nodded, copying his move exactly. “Do you have the highest belt in this?”
“No. Not by far. I have a black belt, but there are gradations within the black belts. I have what’s called a second-degree black belt, but there are many more like me. But once you have a black belt, you are to be addressed as professor.”
Blake gestured to Aaron to follow him to the mat as he sat down to demonstrate a back stretch.
“I need to call you professor?” There wasn’t indignation in Aaron’s voice, more like surprise.
“Not when it’s the two of us. But should you ever join in a class, yes.” Blake had never been highly formal, unlike some of his colleagues across the country. The kids didn’t call him professor, simply Blake, and even with the adults he wasn’t too strict about it. For some reason he was strangely looking forward to Aaron calling him professor, though.
He worked him through some more stretches, merely commenting on Aaron’s form to make sure he got it right. As they got up, he noticed Aaron’s wrists had gotten even redder. He reached out without thinking and grabbed his hand. “Your wrists are swelling up. Do you bruise easily?”
Aaron shrugged. “Yeah. My PE teacher even asked me once if someone was abusing me, ‘cause I had bruises so often.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Were you?” Strict religious folks, wouldn’t be the first time he’d encountered an abuse victim from a background like that.
“Nah,” Aaron said. “I was the golden boy, remember?”
“And Josh?”
Aaron suddenly looked away, started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Blake was still holding on to his hand and he let go, reluctantly. “They weren’t exactly understanding when he came out, but they never touched him.”
What was the story there? If his brother had been treated like that in front of him, what had Aaron’s reaction been? Something Blake intended to find out. “When you get home, pull two cooling packs from the freezer and put those on your wrists for at least ten minutes, a couple of times today.”
Aaron nodded. “Yes, Professor.”
It might have been said half-jokingly, but Blake had been right. He did like it when Aaron called him that. In fact, he liked it very much.
3
He hadn’t missed a lesson for two weeks straight. Every morning, week or weekend, rain or shine, Aaron had shown up at the studio at eight sharp. And every morning, Blake had been there to teach him.
They’d gone through tons of exercises, most leaving Aaron out of breath and hurting afterward. He was sporting bruises all over his body now, courtesy of what Blake called grappling. It meant Blake would hold him down in a certain way and Aaron had to try and escape. Blake let him, of course, provided Aaron did the moves correctly.
He could do a break fall in his sleep by now, but Blake still had him practice it at least twenty times each session. It was the most essential move, he’d explained, because once you hit your head and were knocked out cold, you were done for.
Aaron hadn’t asked for his reward after the first session, had figured he’d been enough of a nuisance to Blake. The second session, Blake had made him a deal: he’d get an even bigger reward if he stuck with it for two weeks. He had, and he couldn’t wait to see what his reward was.
Would Blake maybe buy him something? New clothes would be nice, though not awe-inspiring. That was true for many things he needed, actually. He hoped his reward wasn’t something he needed but something he wanted. More than anything, he wanted to do something with Blake. For some reason his presence steadied him. Blake made him want to do better, be better, and it was an unfamiliar feeling.
He stepped into the studio. Rhythmic thuds told him Blake was punching one of the huge boxing bags with fervor. He’d come to understand why the guy was so toned. He not only worked out every single morning but also demonstrated exercises throughout the day and participated in every single lesson. Aaron still struggled to do more than five push-ups in a row, but at least he was improving.
He’d taken up running, as Blake had suggested. Ordered, more accurately. He was slowly building up endurance, but he still couldn’t make it past five minutes of running before he had to take a break and walk for a minute or two.
He took off his shoes and socks, neatly put them in one of the lockers in the locker room and hung his coat. When he stepped into the main room, Blake was indeed pounding hard on a punching bag, naked from the waist up, his hands wrapped in some kind of protective bandages. His toned legs were hugged by a pair of tight shorts, much like biker shorts, that outlined every muscle. His body was drenched in sweat, his black hair slick with perspiration.
Aaron swallowed. He grew hard instantly.
Blake’s body was…perfect. His abdomen was a frigging eight-pack, each muscle perfectly defined on his stomach. And his chest, those arms, that ass. It was the stuff of dreams, of the porn that Aaron had starting watching since he came out, though he still felt guilty about it every single time.
Blake spotted Aaron before he could announce himself, and he gestured Aaron over. Luckily he went right back to pounding the bag, so Aaron could discreetly rearrange himself. His training pants were not as tight as those things Blake was wearing, but his erection still showed. He pulled his shirt out of his waistband, hoping it would cover him well enough.
“Morning,” Blake said, chipper as ever. Clearly a morning person.
“Good morning.” His voice was hoarse, but hopefully Blake would chalk that up to it still being early.
“I laid out a pair of training gloves for you. Put them on.”
Aaron found the shiny black gloves, clumsily put his hands in them. They felt strange, big.
“Why aren’t you wearing these?” he asked.
“You and your infernal questions,” Blake sighed. He stopped punching the bag and turned to face Aaron. “My hands are used to it, plus I’m wearing wraps.”
“Oh, okay.”
“We’re adding boxing to your workout program. It’s a great way to build up strength in your arms and core, while at the same time working on your reflexes. Plus, if you need to let out some aggressi
on a punching bag is your best friend.”
He gestured for Aaron to step closer to the bag, and he obeyed immediately. At least his erection was settling down. Couldn’t Blake put on a shirt or something and stop teasing him with that perfect body?
Blake took position next to him. The musky smell of his sweat was strangely intoxicating. “Let’s start with the most basic of punches, a jab. We’ll do twenty on each side, okay? Step in with the same foot as you’re punching with. Tighten your core, and keep your arms tight as well.”
He demonstrated a few jabs with his right hand, then with his left. “You’re up,” he said.
Aaron did his best to punch the bag hard, but it barely moved. He tried again, but looked at his feet to get the position right and half-missed the bag. After a few tries he seemed to have the basic coordination down. He did another jab. This was kinda fun.
Blake stepped in behind him, putting his hands on Aaron’s stomach. “Engage your core,” he said.
Aaron froze. All his nerves seemed to suddenly end on his stomach, where Blake’s hot, sweaty hand was touching him. His dick loved it, that much was clear. What if Blake noticed? Would he be offended? He was straight, after all.
“What are you waiting for?” Blake snapped. “Jab again with your right hand, but keep your core tight.”
He couldn’t think, let alone move. Not with that hand on him. Not with Blake’s smell assaulting his senses. Not with his hot breath tickling his neck.
“What’s the matter?” Blake asked.
“Stop touching me,” Aaron blurted out. The hand disappeared immediately. And of course, he already missed it.
Blake stepped up to his side. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why do you suddenly have an issue with me touching you?”
Aaron bit his lip, his eyes trained to the floor. He couldn’t say it. Blake would never look at him again, let alone train him.
“Aaron, look at me when I talk to you. What the hell is wrong?”
“You’re…I’m…” The words wouldn’t come. A fierce blush crept over his cheeks. He kept his eyes lowered, refusing to look at Blake. “I have an erection, okay,” he finally said. He looked up from underneath his lashes.